The Songs are True
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: Jack gets another shocking visit from his not-dead friend. Who's also married. Wait, what? Follows on from my oneshots "Don't Stop at Hello" and "Fixed", set post-"Wedding of River Song", Doctor/River, rated for some language, alcohol use, and innuendo.


**Ok, I was intending to write this one sooner, but then schoolwork and other fics and the Imaginary Sock being home kind of made me lose track of time. But anyway, here's the third part to this little mini-series or whatever it wants to be, and I hope you'll all find it just as enjoyable, if not more so, than the last one!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**The Songs Are True**

Jack had just paid his tab and stepped out into the night air. All was calm and quiet, as it had been for some time. He hated it; it afforded him far too much time for his thoughts, which tended to always go down a more melancholy path. He was tired of that old routine. Distraction was what he wanted, something big and loud and impossible to ignore—

A strange, yellowy light suddenly spilled out of an alleyway, just reaching his feet, but that alone wouldn't have given him pause. The singing did.

"_When the moon hits your eye, yadda dum dee dee dye, that's amore_!" Jack's head whipped in the direction of the bizarrely, achingly familiar voice to see none other than the open door of the TARDIS, and the pilot of which executing a rather impressive spin on the balls of his feet. The Doctor looked to be drawing breath in order to continue his rather bad rendition of a Dean Martin classic, but Jack couldn't even try to keep from interrupting.

"_Doctor_?" He called incredulously. The Time Lord froze, looking just as surprised as Jack had been to see a familiar face, but then an ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

"Jack!" The alien snapped his fingers, somehow causing the doors of the police box to slam shut of their own accord, and then met him at the mouth of the alleyway in leaps and bounds. Before Jack could even hope to get a word in, he was seized by the shoulders and felt what could only be his friend's lips pressing briefly to each of his cheeks. "Jack, the songs are true, you really _do_ want to sing 'vita bella'!"

"What?" He could only gape, so utterly, absolutely thrown. This couldn't be happening, couldn't be real. It wasn't real because the Doctor had said the last time they met—

"You would not believe where I've just come from," the Time Lord was saying, still with that giant grin, "though I daresay you'd be pleased, proud even."

"What, a concert hall?" He guessed dimly, not even sure why he was bothering to do so. There was obviously something wrong here that he wasn't getting. But it had been his best guess; the Doctor was in a tux with a white jacket and black bowtie, which on second glance seemed to be almost hastily done, and it occurred to him that he'd yet to see this incarnation of his friend in the same outfit twice. But then again that brought him back to the last time he'd seen his friend. Yes, something wasn't right here.

"No, no, not a concert hall," the alien dismissed, then seemed to have a thought. "Though not a bad idea, I'll have to keep that in mind- some other night, maybe the symphony—"

"Doctor," he finally cut in, resolving to get to the bottom of this, "what is happening?"

"Happening?" The other echoed innocently. "Ah, well, seem to have landed here by accident—but that's alright, a little visit never hurt!"

Jack, however, was starting to think that it _could_ hurt, and that it would hurt him very much. He was starting to have a horrible feeling—this Doctor before him was certainly not the same man who had told him very plainly that it was his time to die. It couldn't be the same man. And all that talk they'd had lately of time travel and mixed up timelines…this had to be an earlier version of his friend, one with no knowledge of an impending demise. That realization was almost crushing.

"Doc, I think you better go," he forced the words out. Because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep from spilling the beans, or trying somehow to influence events in some way around that dreaded fixed point they'd last discussed.

"What? Nonsense, Jack! Now that I'm here, I might as well check in with you—how about I buy you a drink, eh? Isn't that little place you frequent somewhere around here?"

"I just left—" he tried to reason.

"Then your seat will still be warm. Execllent! Come along, Captain, it's all on me." With that he was practically dragged back into the bar, made to order a drink—which caused the bartender to raise a single eyebrow—and only then was he given time to say something.

"Are you drunk or something already?" He demanded, as the Doctor was staring off into space with a silly little smile on his face.

"What? Oh no, I don't drink anymore, thought that was obvious."

"What about that bottle of wine from Napoleon?" He couldn't help the slip-up. And maybe it would clue the Doctor in to this mixed up meeting.

But the Time Lord just smiled and shook his head. "The Ponds drank it- oh, that's Amy, Rory, and River. I did promise it to you though, didn't I? Sorry about that, Jack. Jack?"

For Jack was now staring at the alien, well, like he might be expected to stare at an alien. "Wait, but- no. No you didn't. Not yet, I mean. You _couldn't_ have."

"Couldn't I?" The Doctor wore a smirk now, one that seemed entirely too smug. "How was the cruise?"

"Fine, but Doc, you said you were going to that lake—"

"And I did," his friend nodded. "I went to Lake Silencio and got shot. That doesn't mean I died."

"What?" He asked flatly, not able to comprehend the strange and wonderful things being told to him.

"Perhaps I'm over-simplifying things," the Doctor mused. "Alright, suffice to say that in-between seeing you and going to Utah I ran into some friends- acquaintances, really. Acquaintances, what a great word! Describes most of the people I've ever met, actually."

"Yeah, that's normal. But what happened?"

"Tell me, Jack, have you ever heard of the _Teselecta_?"

Jack's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Sure, they were a rogue unit that branched off from the Time Agency."

"I should've guessed," the Time Lord grumbled. "Well, in the future, they'll build a sort of spaceship-robot, by the same name, which they'll pilot to points in history in a ridiculous attempt to deliver justice. The _Teselecta_ can transform into anyone…and appear to be dead."

Jack suddenly felt a rush of hope and joy in him. "You mean they helped you fake your death?"

"Yes, Jack, they did. They seem to like me for some reason, can't imagine why," the alien shrugged, and Jack chose not to roll his eyes. "Now I am telling you this because I trust you to keep it _secret_, Jack. No one can know about this- it's still a fixed point, you know?" Jack nodded, and his friend relaxed a bit. "I just felt badly, you see, for the way we parted. And I really do owe you."

"What, for the advice?" Jack couldn't help being a bit stunned and almost annoyed at this point. "Look, Doc, if you're going to continue thanking me for that the rest of my life, I will never give you advice again!" He honestly didn't see what the big deal was; if anything he wished he could take it back, because the enigmatic River Song had still shot at his friend and forced him into this secrecy. What was even going on with that woman?

"But Jack, I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you," the Time Lord protested, gesturing at himself.

"What, sitting in a dive-bar dressed to the nines while I have a drink?" He scoffed.

"Well, yes. But I meant more where I am in life."

"And that would be…?" He trailed off invitingly, wondering just where the Doctor would have to be in life to be in this situation, and what Jack had to do with it.

"Much, much happier," the Doctor replied, and Jack really did roll his eyes as he finished off his glass. "And married."

The alcohol burned all the way back up as he gave a rather impressive spit-take, and Jack thought he might be trying to cough up a lung as the bartender merely sighed and wiped the counter clean and the Doctor alternately pounded and rubbed circles on his back.

"Easy, Captain, don't want you going on me—especially with all these people here. Perhaps a water, bartender? Good man."

Jack had his cheek pressed to the bar as he gasped in air, only lifting his head to accept the glass of water placed before him. When at last his throat didn't feel like parched, ragged remnants, he turned and grabbed the Time Lord by his upper arms. "_What_?"

The Doctor, for his part, looked more than a little alarmed. "Oh, did I forget that part with the timeline where River _wouldn't_ shoot me and so I had to discreetly reveal the _Teselecta_ to her and married her?"

Jack almost laughed, he really almost did. "Yes, Doctor, you forgot. You forgot probably the most important part of this whole thing. How the hell did that happen?"

"Not so loud, Jack, and you're really starting to hurt me," his friend noted, glancing around the bar to see if the other patrons were listening in. Feeling a little ashamed, Jack released the alien.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Perfectly alright," the other responded as he shook out his arms. "But you wanted to hear what happened. Alright, well River had been raised as a child by a religious cult known as the Silence who want me dead. Well, wanted me dead, they think they've got their wish. She'd been conditioned to want to kill me—tried it a couple times, too—and was forced into a suit fully equipped with enough ammunition to bring down a Time Lord and keep him from regenerating. But she wouldn't do it!"

"So what happened? The fixed point, I mean, wouldn't it _make_ her shoot you? That's not something you can fight." He'd tried.

"I know, isn't she amazing?" The centuries-old alien practically gushed before clearing his throat. "Course, I was a bit cross about it at the time. There I was with a plan ready to go and she has to pull that stunt. Never mind the fact that it shouldn't have mattered if I had a plan or not. You don't just rewrite fixed points, Jack—though what am I telling you for, eh?"

"Ok, but what happened when she tried to rewrite it?"

"Time unravelled. Everything happening or not happening when it wasn't supposed to, a whole alternate timeline of wrongness spilling outward from Earth through the entire universe. You probably don't remember it, though I wouldn't be surprised if you woke up with a rather nasty headache the next day." Now that his friend had mentioned it, Jack did recall exactly that; he'd chalked it up to a bad mood due to the Doctor's—supposed—death. "River wasn't old enough or calm enough to understand the implications of what she'd done, so I had to convince her to help me reestablish the correct timeline and allow me to fake my death."

"Uh-huh. And you did that by marrying her?" He just wanted to make sure he'd been following everything till now.

"Correct."

"Why?"

"I'd hardly thought you'd require a reason besides the fact that she's absolutely gorgeous," his friend quipped.

"I wouldn't," he agreed with a smirk, before turning a considering look on the Time Lord. "But you would."

The Doctor's smile turned somewhat wry. "Quite right, Captain. Well, let me try and sum everything up for you: She's my intellectual equal in nearly every aspect, can pilot the TARDIS, and can hold her own if a situation should turn sour- or violent. It's nice not to _have_ to worry, that the worrying is just my choice."

Jack nodded, as he'd heard this more or less before. "Ok, so she's not your average fragile human companion. There's got to be more to it than that."

The alien grimaced. "It sort of gets rather complicated after that, Jack."

"Try me," he challenged.

"Hm, where should I start, the bit where she's Amy and Rory's daughter or the bit where she's part Time Lord?"

It was a lucky thing he had no more drink left; Jack would have lost the rest of it, too. "_What_?!"

"See? Complicated," his friend responded, like he'd been waiting on Jack to prove his point. "And before you ask how on the daughter part: time travel."

Jack opened and shut his mouth several times. "Wha-but—ok. But part Time Lord? How does _that_ work?"

"Er, I'd rather not talk about the details," the Doctor hedged, looking rather uncomfortable and a bit pink in the cheeks all of a sudden. "But to put it one way, Amy and Rory are the first married couple to ever travel in my TARDIS for an extended period of time, and that sort of had some unexpected consequences."

He let that hang in the air for a moment, partly because he was trying to absorb that information, and partly because he enjoyed the way the alien's blush kept growing. "Wow," he said finally with a wicked leer.

"Ah, yes. It explained a lot, once I realized," his friend continued, unwilling to dwell on the rather interesting part of the conversation. Pity. "Her sharp reflexes, her understanding of time not to mention the TARDIS—did I tell you she can read, write, and speak Gallifreyan?" The Time Lord certainly was gushing now, but Jack didn't feel as amused as before.

Instead, he felt a sort of warmth; the last time he'd ever seen the Doctor so animated about his own culture or background, his friend had been sobbing and clutching at the dead body of the man who had tortured them both for an entire year. This was much better. He thought he might be able to start liking River Song again.

"No, you didn't tell me. But that's great, Doc. Must be pretty nice not having to worry about that eventuality, huh?" He remembered that particular sticking point of the first conversation they'd had about all this. If River Song was even part Time Lord, surely that meant she was much more like the Doctor or even him in regards to longevity.

His friend's smile flickered a moment, but before Jack could question it, he shrugged. "Nothing's perfect, Captain. We're still mixed up, of course, probably will be forever. And River is in Stormcage for my murder—at least during the day time."

"Oh?" Jack raised an eyebrow. If he'd ever known anything about the Stormcage Containment Facility, it was that it wasn't a part-time gig.

"Dr. River Song will go down in history as the woman who can come and go as she pleases, who chooses to return on her own and work for a real pardon so she can be officially absolved of her 'crime'," the Doctor informed him with pride. "And, seeing as it's for me that she'll be doing so, it's only fair that I help her, right?"

"You dog!" Jack nudged him with his elbow. "So what, you just pick her up for the odd trip or two? Strange life. And what's with the tux, then? High society isn't often your usual." It was probably getting close to an interrogation, but he felt he deserved these answers. After all, had it not been for his rather excellent advice, the alien before him would be the same old time-travelling intergalactic bachelor. Maybe he should have gone into matchmaking or couples counseling.

"It isn't, but last night was a bit more, well, special. If we're looking at things timeline-wise, Jack, from my point of view it is the twenty-third of April. Meaning yesterday I faked my death."

"Ok," Jack nodded.

"Well, continuing that logic, River and I also got married yesterday. So last night, sort of marked the beginning of an…ongoing honeymoon, seeing as River can't be gone from Stormcage for too long, especially in the early days—"

His friend kept rambling on, but Jack was barely listening. His mind was too busy processing just what the Doctor had said and not said. And suddenly his rather disheveled appearance had taken on a _whole_ new meaning.

"You know what? You were right, I am proud," he cut in, causing the Time Lord to halt mid-sentence. "And incredibly pleased. Bit insanely jealous, but I am _loving_ this."

The Doctor blushed bright red again, no doubt recalling his earlier euphoric words. "Oh, well, I hardly meant about _that_." He shifted a bit in the seat.

"Yeah, you did, and I get it, ok? Full bragging rights to you."

"I am _not_ bragging, Jack—"

"Well you should be! Hell, what are you sitting here for? There's a beautiful woman waiting to escape into your arms for Night Two, go rescue her!" He stopped short of physically pushing his friend, but did make shooing motions with his hands.

"If she heard you saying she needed rescuing, she'd slap you," the alien retorted, though he'd at least stood up from the stool. Jack suspected that that had more to do with the enticing picture his words had painted rather than his childish gestures.

"Maybe so, but right now I think she'd be thanking me. Go, and buy me a drink _after_ the honeymoon. Bring the missus, can't wait to meet her."

"I'm sure you can't," the Doctor muttered, tugging at his already somewhat-loose collar. "You know, I'm having trouble remembering a time where I've been so thoroughly dismissed, Captain. And here I thought you enjoyed my visits."

"I do, believe me, Doc, but I'm not one to stand in the way of love—and whatever it may bring," Jack waggled his eyebrows, causing his friend to flush all over again—not that he'd really stopped—and simply turn and storm from the bar. "Enjoy your evening!"

"You as well!" The Time Lord snapped without looking back. Jack laughed, waited a few minutes, and then left the bar as well to go home and do just that. In fact, he couldn't remember for the life of him when he'd last enjoyed an evening so much.

OoO

River Song was sitting on her cot, flipping through the few filled-out pages of her diary and feeling that coiling pit of nerves inside. She'd made it through another day at Stormcage, much like the first, and now was waiting, torn between hope and doubt. After all, last night had been simply amazing with the stars and _him_, but he might not have meant it when he said every night—

That irritating grating noise she both hated and loved soon laid her fears to rest, however, and she was on her feet before the police box had even phased completely into being, fluffing her hair and pulling at the hem of her prison-top. She hadn't much to work with these days.

The Doctor came striding out the doors, impeccably dressed—though she had to wonder if that wasn't the very same suit from yesterday—turning only briefly to switch off the security camera. "Hello Sweetie," the increasingly familiar endearment rolled delightfully easy off her tongue, but her eyes widened as he made straight for her cell. While the sonic whirred against the lock, he looked her up and down with blazing eyes. "My, you're in a state," she remarked, trying to stay cool and casual, but his _gaze_—

The cell door was open and his lips crushed against hers with a hunger she'd thought only she knew. When at last they parted, she noticed that yes it was the tux from the previous night with that bowtie he'd kept having to redo as she'd pulled him in for several 'one last' kisses, and that he now had her backed against a wall with his forehead resting against hers.

"Jack Harkness," he breathed, "Jack bloody Harkness."

Whoever or whatever that meant, River Song knew she had to find out, if it caused her husband to be in _this_ kind of mood. Right now, though, she was more than happy to enjoy the immediate effects.

**So yay, fluff of a rather romance-y kind. I think that's a sight better than the last oneshot, though, huh? I sort of vaguely referenced the "Night and the Doctor" shorts from the Season Six DVD. Don't know if I'll continue on with this series, not really sure what to do next. I suppose the fateful meeting, but I'm not certain I could do it justice. But anyway, I'd love to hear what you all thought of this one, so thanks for reading and please review!**


End file.
